


Hadn't a Clue

by PanicFOB



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Party, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21792187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicFOB/pseuds/PanicFOB
Summary: Tony orchestrates a company holiday party that's a little unconventional.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	Hadn't a Clue

“Tony’s gone off the rails this year,” was the first thing Steve said to you when you arrived at the Avengers compound holiday party.

“I’m afraid to even ask,” you noted in response.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he said with that winning smile.

You felt your face grow a little heated. You never knew how to react when Steve Rogers dished out the compliments to you. “Oh, uh, thank you, Steve. You look very handsome yourself.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Anyway, I’ve caught wind of a rumor that he’s arranged for some mystery game that he’s forcing all the guests to play.”

“Mystery game? It’s Christmas, not Halloween.”

“I tried telling him. He won’t listen, which is why I said he’s gone off the rails.”

“Ugh, doesn’t he realize that people just want to eat and drink all night and not be bothered by silly games?”

“Probably. But Tony rarely cares about what other people want….” Steve grabbed two glasses of wine off a passing waiter’s tray and handed one to you.

“Thank you,” you said before clanging your glass against his and taking a large sip.

“I meant to ask you how the date went,” he said in an even tone.

“Date? Oh, you mean the thing with Carl from IT?”

He nodded in confirmation.

“It was a bore. We mutually agreed to call it quits before we even got to dessert.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he said before taking his own large sip of wine.

You raised your right eyebrow. “Are you? You didn’t seem too happy for me when I told you he asked me out.”

Steve avoided your eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“How are your prospects with Eleanor looking?” you wondered aloud.

“Eleanor? What are you talking about?”

“Eleanor. Dark red hair, rather tall, sits at the desk right next to mine. You come down to the PR offices any chance you get just to have a chat with her.”

Steve gave you the oddest look just then. “I’m not interested in Eleanor,” he answered you vaguely.

“Why not? She seems like your type.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means she looks an awful lot like Peggy Carter.” You took another sip of wine and found that you were already at the bottom of your glass.

He scoffed. “I’m not looking for a carbon copy of Peggy.”

“Then what are you looking for, Steve?”

But before he could answer you, Tony was standing at the front of the room and hitting a utensil against a wine glass in an effort to gather everyone’s attention. You turned away from Steve’s bright blue eyes and listened to find out what ridiculous shenanigans Tony had planned for the night.

“Listen up folks. Santa Clause has been murdered, and it’s up to us to figure out who committed this ghastly holiday crime. Pair up into teams of two, and begin your search for clues. They can be anywhere in the compound.” And with that, Tony disappeared out of the room.

“Jesus, that’s a bit morbid, isn’t it?” you said under your breath.

You felt a large hand on your upper arm. You turned to find Steve still standing just behind you. “Would you like to be my partner?” he inquired.

“You’re actually planning on participating?”

“I don’t think Tony is giving us much choice.”

***

An hour later, the two of you had ended up at your desk in PR, sipping yet another couple glasses of wine. You’d found exactly one clue, which had been no help at all. It was a piece of parchment that simply said “Santa Claus’ favorite colors are red and white.” You’d rolled your eyes when you read it and suggested to Steve that the two of you just chill somewhere until someone much more devoted than yourselves figured out who “murdered Santa.”

He was sitting in your comfy leather chair, feet kicked up on the corner of your desk, and you were lounging on top of your work calendar, legs stretched, your heel-clad feet touching your stapler.

You noticed Steve randomly glance at Eleanor’s desk, he was studying her framed pictures she had of herself with friends.

“You’re really not into her at all, huh?”

His head snapped back to you. “No, I’m not. I was just wondering why you don’t have any photos like that on your desk.”

“I dunno… don’t really feel the need to advertise my personal life at work.”

“I’m technically a part of your work, but you still tell me all sorts of things about your personal life.”

“Well, when you’d been coming to PR for over a year to chat up Eleanor, I figured I’d take pity on you and become your friend so you could use me as an excuse to see her.”

Steve looked a little irritated now. “That’s the only reason you became friends with me? And how many times do I have to say that I wasn’t trying to chat up Eleanor?!”

“Then what other reason would Captain America have to be in PR all the time?”

“I was trying to chat up you!” he blurted, but he didn’t look regretful. His icy eyes were puncturing your heart. Steve needed you to know this now, and he looked a little frustrated that he had had to spell it out so clearly for you.

“You were?” your voice was barely audible.

“Of course I was. You really had no idea?”

“I hadn’t a clue,” you confirmed.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and stood from your office chair. “Well, now you know.” He looked like he was about to bolt.

“Steve,” you said to get his attention once again as you climbed down from your desk. “Why didn’t you ever just ask me out?”

He blushed. “I guess I’ve never really been good at that… Was biding my time.”

“Well, I’ll give you a clue: I would have said yes.”

He looked the happiest you had seen him all night. When you found your way to each other, your lips united to the taste of sweet wine that both of you had been sipping all night.

“Hey! There you are, punk!” you heard Bucky’s voice shout from the entrance to the PR department. He was with Natasha, both of them walking with a purpose in their steps.

“You’re coming with us, Rogers,” she said sternly.

You and Steve both wore looks of extreme confusion. “What’s going on?” you asked.

“We figured it out,” Bucky told him, “Steve killed Santa Claus. Now we gotta go tell Tony and claim the prize for the night.”

“You two really spent all this time actually searching for clues?” Steve said incredulously.

“Uh, yeah. If there’s a game, Barnes and I will for sure be winning it,” Natasha explained matter-of-factly. Bucky gave her a high five.

You and Steve rolled your eyes but followed the competitive couple to the main room to witness the announcement that Captain America had killed Santa Claus.


End file.
